


for you it's separation, for me it's waiting

by mainland



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-23
Updated: 2012-11-23
Packaged: 2018-04-07 10:03:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4259214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mainland/pseuds/mainland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That AU where Kris is a fansite hyung and Chanyeol is his college bro. Prompt from timeshaker@LJ.</p>
            </blockquote>





	for you it's separation, for me it's waiting

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LJ.

1.  
  
In the community, Kris Wu is a bit of a celebrity.  
  
Detractors say it's superficial worship, because he's a male fan with the kind of looks that have venue staff and new fans mistaking him for an idol himself. Supporters claim it's for the quality of his work. This is closer to the truth: after all, every fansite he opens easily garners over ten thousand views a month and he's never once posted a selca. A year after he discontinued activities on I-KNOW, his Jung Yunho site, the hits still carried into the thousands. _the level of his dedication and professionalism_ , chirps a post by the president of his fancafe, _shines through in every photo he uploads!!!!!_  
  
These days he's following S.M. Entertainment's newest project, six boys under the name of EXO. Kris maintains only one site at a time, and with EXO it's the lead dancer who's caught his eye. There's an industry joke about idols behaving better around Kris Wu. He has notoriously high standards and no one is exactly sure what those standards are. It's the mystery that piques the curiosity of the netizens, and the sheer quality of his support that stirs a passing envy among the other rookie idols. After he opens XINGXING, 'exo lay' briefly becomes the top search on Naver. Lu Han texts him the next day to pass on a thank you, and Kris replies with _zhang yixing fighting_ , punctuated by an animated daisy emoticon.  
  
He doesn't talk about it much, drawing a neat line between his hobby and his regular day-to-day, but Kris takes a quiet pride in his reputation as the quickest, the most reliable, the flat-out best. His tip-offs are never wrong and he's almost always first on the scene with a camera in hand. The fandom anticipates his birthday fan projects almost as much as the birthdays themselves, and annual preorders for his fansite goods always sell out within the week. 'Best' is a demanding standard. It's a lot of hard, time-consuming work.  
  
"Which is why you should pay me," Chanyeol tells him.  
  
  
  
  
2.  
  
_flight delayed_ , buzzes his phone, _prob arriving around 10pm_  
  
"Lu Han-hyung is so useful," Baekhyun says when Kris informs him. He's sitting on Kris's futon, cleaning his camera. They had originally planned to head to the airport within the hour, but Lu Han's just saved them four hours of fruitless waiting.  
  
"He has to make up for how annoying he is somehow," Kris quips. He's known Lu Han since high school and they're close friends, but Kris would be lying if he says he isn't also thankful Lu Han ended up one of the more well-connected ulzzangs on the net. He especially lucked out with Lay—Lu Han has been friends with Zhang Yixing since his trainee days and they are apparently long-lost twins, or two halves of a whole, or something. Whatever Lu Han's metaphor of the week is, for Kris it's a perfect arrangement. He's privy to behind-the-scenes details and news updates before anyone else, and it eases his conscience to know everything he's told has already been vetted by Lay.  
  
"Should I spread the word?" Baekhyun sets aside his camera and opens up his laptop.  
  
Kris thinks it over. "Let them know there's a delay, but don't say the exact time," he decides. "I'm going to go tell Chanyeol."  
  
"What, is he here?" Baekhyun looks around the apartment like there's somewhere for a six-foot tall man to hide.  
  
"Sleeping," Kris says, and goes down the short hall to his roommate's bedroom.  
  
He taps on the door and lets himself in. The lights are off and he can just see the top of a curly head amidst the blankets and pillows. Kris sits down gently on the edge of the mattress and puts a hand on what he hopes is Chanyeol's shoulder. "Chanyeol." His voice is a low rumble, and he shakes his hand a little as an afterthought.  
  
As if on cue, the alarm on Chanyeol's phone beeps. Kris is just turning it off when Chanyeol sits up abruptly, blankets falling from his bare chest and pillow creases on his cheek.  
  
"Is it time—" he interrupts himself with a loud yawn, "Is it time to go?"  
  
"No, the plane got delayed. I'm letting you know so you don't have to get up," Kris says. "I'm also letting you know it is five in the afternoon."  
  
"I'm going to pretend I heard wrong because I'm still half-asleep," Chanyeol mumbles, scratching his belly, "and Kris Wu didn't just accuse someone else of sleeping too much."  
  
Kris watches the little bit of light spilling through the curtains play over Chanyeol's bare shoulder, pink and orange because the sun is just starting to set, and thinks wistfully that sleep sounds like a great idea. The room has a drowsy heat from being closed up, warm enough to almost be stuffy.  
  
"So when d'you need me?" Chanyeol throws back the covers and swings his legs off the bed.  
  
Kris mourns the broken peace a little. "Around 10?"  
  
Chanyeol pauses. "Oh—hmm," he says.  
  
"Do you have plans?"  
  
"Sort of?" Chanyeol rubs the back of his head. "I have a rap thing—you know." He gestures pointlessly, but Kris knows. Chanyeol took him once to one of his 'rap things', an underground freestyle hosted in the hall of some dingy club. "You know, it's not a big deal. I can skip it." Chanyeol shrugs, hand on the doorknob.  
  
Kris follows him out of the bedroom. "You don't need to do that," he says, though he's torn between really wanting Chanyeol to do it and feeling guilty. He tries to remember the last time he took airport pictures alone. It's always mayhem, carrying a dozen things, half of which are extremely delicate and extremely expensive, and trying to beat the frenzied crowd. Especially for full-body shots, but outfits are the main reason anyone cares about airport photos.  
  
"No, it's cool. Oh woah, Baekhyun." Chanyeol waves on his way to the kitchen, still just in a pair of boxers.  
  
Baekhyun waves back, scrunching up his face. He and Chanyeol get along great now (too great, Kris laments if asked), but the first month had been half-serious death threats and obnoxious ribbing, because Chanyeol refused to refer to him as anything but 'groupie' after he found out Baekhyun runs Kris's fancafe.  
  
"No, you go," Kris says decisively. "I have Baekhyun. I don't need to drag you with me every time."  
  
"Dude," Chanyeol stops rummaging in the fridge and turns to face him. "I said it's fine. Besides, isn't it going to be extra tough this time? You said they're having, uh, they have a new song?"  
  
"A comeback," Kris supplies. He's pretty sure Chanyeol doesn't even know the names of anyone in EXO, other than Lay. Though he probably remembers the number of members by now. Probably. "Well. Okay. Thanks," he says sincerely, and pumps his fist. "Park Chanyeol, _jjang!_ "  
  
"Fuck yeah," Chanyeol says through a mouthful of cold pizza, and leers. "I'm gonna call in my sexual favours later—oh speaking of, did you call your mom?"  
  
Kris kicks Chanyeol in the butt when he scoots by to go bother Baekhyun. "Don't ever say those two things in the same breath again."  
  
Outside the fandom, Chanyeol's probably the only person who knows what Kris does (minus Jongdae, who Kris can sometimes wheedle into doing some coding for the site). It was kind of unavoidable, after when they roomed together first year and Kris had four large boxes of camera equipment despite being a business major. Even more than with Lu Han, Kris thinks that's where he got lucky. Liking male idols isn't something most guys respect but Chanyeol took it in stride. He's been like that since the start: easy with friendship, always willing to go along, sociable and surprisingly tactful. It's maybe his favourite thing about Chanyeol, that he's eager, that he's so ready to like what Kris likes, just because he likes Kris.  
  
  
  
  
3.  
  
The other fans affectionately call him hyung because there's something comforting about the familiar slope of his shoulders rising out of a crowd. Kris doesn't really associate with any of them (barring Baekhyun because of his sheer endearing persistence) but they tend to look to him, all the same, and maybe that's why he falls into the role in small ways: steadying a fangirl before she trips, or subtly blocking off an ill-tempered manager. Even with impersonal things, like news updates or fan merchandise, there are jokes about Kris replacing S.M. Whenever a particularly badly-edited set of official pictures are released, his fancafe floods with comments:  
  
  
_it's a disgrace to put them here next to hyung's photos ㅋㅋㅋ_  
  
_the quality of magazine shoots... this can't be compared ㅋㅋㅋ_  
  
_are they selling something? ㅎㅎㅎ i'd rather buy the airport clothes_  
  
_...what... is this..._  
  
_ㅠㅠㅠ what did they do... ㅠㅠ hyung you can fix this right ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ_  
  
  
It's probably why his fangoods do so well. Kris spends more time than he should reading the forums but he enjoys it while he can, because the flattery is only a comfort up until the week before everything needs to be shipped out and he's trapped in a flurry of late deliveries and cardboard packaging. The first year, it coincides with exams, so he ends up hunched over a pile of fanart stickers at one in the morning, taking a break every ten sheets to read a chapter of his textbook.  
  
That's how Chanyeol finds him, the first year, when he stumbles through the front door still tipsy, holding his coat instead of wearing it and his nose and fingers pink with cold.  
  
"Hyung," he says, voice thick, and clears his throat. "Hyung, what're you doing?"  
  
Kris just pushes up his glasses. "I have to send these out by the weekend." He carefully cuts around a dancing cartoon Lay. It's slow work. His hands are so big and the stickers are so tiny.  
  
He does glance over when Chanyeol collapses into a heap next to him, smelling like smoke and alcohol sweetened just a little by the crisp of early winter. The wide collar of his black top droops to show the flush on his chest, and Kris nudges him. "Why aren't you wearing your coat?"  
  
"I'm not cold," Chanyeol says happily. "Wow, these stickers are so cute."  
  
"Go get yourself a glass of water and then go to bed," Kris says patiently, and turns back to his work.  
  
Chanyeol is silent for a moment before he scrambles to his feet. Somewhere in the apartment the tap turns on. Kris counts six more sheets before he can read another chapter.  
  
He's only finished one when Chanyeol comes back and sits cross-legged on the floor, leaning against the futon Kris is on. Kris looks at him quizzically, and Chanyeol tips his head back with a smile. His face is pink from scrubbing, and still wet enough that when Chanyeol looks up he has to blink rapidly against the few drops that fall from his eyelashes. "I'm sober now, do you need a hand?" he says. "I don't have class until the afternoon tomorrow."  
  
Kris doesn't know what to say for a second. His mind weighs the potential damage Chanyeol could wreck on his precious stock against how much work there's still left to do. On cue, a sharp twinge sparks through the cramped fingers of his right hand. "You can sort the stickers into these envelopes, if you want," he says slowly. "One of each type in all of them."  
  
"Cool." Chanyeol sets to work. Kris watches him for a minute, but he's careful, picking up the patterned envelopes by bracing his fingers on the edges so he doesn't wrinkle or stain them, scooping up the stickers with more delicacy than Kris thought possible. "These are seriously cute. Is it supposed to be the one you like? Ray?"  
  
"Lay," Kris corrects.  
  
"Awesome," Chanyeol says. "Why's he your favourite?"  
  
Kris puts down his hands and tries to think of something Chanyeol will understand. How does he describe the feelings that lead him to spend hundreds of hours and dollars for no substantial return, that have him editing skin blemishes at 700% zoom for a thousand pictures? "He works hard," he finally says. "He's good at everything he does because he's relentless."  
  
"Like a constant force? Steadfast." Chanyeol offers. "What about the rest of them? Sorry," he laughs, sudden and sheepish, crinkling his nose at Kris. "Sorry if I'm being rude. I just never—I've never met someone like—who does this kind of stuff." He waves at the unfinished packages at his feet.  
  
Despite himself Kris laughs back. There's something absurd about Chanyeol's eager curiosity, sitting at his feet like a puppy that wants to learn a new trick. "They're cute," he says easily. "All the bands. They're like a little family." Kris has been around long enough to know not all the emotion on screen is genuine, but you get to pick who you like and he does it carefully, based on what's enough for him.  
  
Chanyeol nods earnestly, and before he can think it through Kris peels off a sleeping Lay and sticks it on Chanyeol's nose. Chanyeol goes a little cross-eyed, then plucks the sticker off and presses it firmly on Kris's cheek. "Hey, you should come next time," he beams. "When I go out. It's fun."  
  
Kris skates his eyes over Chanyeol's lanky body, the dried sweat on his neck and the glitter still smeared across his cheek. Chanyeol's eyes are half-closed when they meet his gaze. He doesn't wait for Kris to answer. "You're okay-looking, you know, maybe you should join one of these boy bands yourself."  
  
Like Kris hasn't considered it before, like any fan hasn't daydreamed about it at least once. To live that closely with an assigned group of brothers, together for years under spotlights and scrutiny, bonded as tight as iron by mutual understanding if nothing else. But that's romanticizing. "Maybe if I had any rhythmic ability," he jokes instead.  
  
Chanyeol suddenly, briefly, touches his mouth to the wrist of the hand Kris has on his knee. It's so fleeting Kris wonders for a moment if he imagined it, only he has no idea what 'it' is. A dry whisper of a kiss, and he shuts that thought down, slightly embarrassed. Chanyeol is still a little drunk.  
  
"Let me know the next time you do this," Chanyeol says when they finally tidy up an hour before sunrise. "I can help you when you start."  
  
  
  
  
4.1.  
  
Kris sleeps with Chanyeol, once.  
  
It's the night Chanyeol takes Kris to one of his rap battles. Kris goes readily, more than a little curious, especially since Chanyeol knows his interests so intimately. When they arrive the club is already rowdy, though the size of the room makes it seem more crowded than it is. Chanyeol clasps hands and bumps shoulders with just about everyone, and introduces Kris each time. Everyone is just friendly enough, and when he's done Chanyeol puts Kris by one wall and comes back with two cans of beer.  
  
"How is it," he half-shouts, over guys warming up and the occasional track bursts from soundcheck.  
  
"Different," Kris shouts back. "It's lively." He gives a thumbs-up and Chanyeol beams. He feels the same momentary disorientation as he does entering a normal nightclub, plunging into an ocean of bodies, the darkness and music breaking around his ears, except here the lights are too bright and no one's anonymous. But it's not a disagreeable sort of confusion, and he's happy enough to see Chanyeol so pleased. They're on their second beers when the lights in the back dim and the first set takes the stage.  
  
It's good. Kris hasn't really seen music like this—he hasn't seen anything less than perfectly polished in a while, but he hasn't ever seen anything this raw in his life. The performers are talented but they're all rough edges, grating against each other, dropping the beat, dropping a chuckle, spitting so hard they take a cheerful intermission to sanitize the mikes. It's just as serious as it is upbeat. One guy cries halfway through his freestyle. The room is a geyser of emotion. Two-thirds of the evening in, Chanyeol squeezes his hand and disappears. Kris holds both their drinks, and waits.  
  
In the end, he can't even remember Chanyeol's battle. He thinks Chanyeol won, though he wasn't even close to being one of the night's best. The clearest memory Kris has is of Chanyeol bounding toward him at the end of the evening, squeezing Kris in a one-armed hug and punching him for finishing both their drinks. They fool around the whole way home, elbowing one another and laughing at their own stupid jokes. At some point Chanyeol pushes Kris into a tree; at another Kris steals Chanyeol's cap and refuses to give it back. Nothing happens until they get home, jostling through the doorway simultaneously, and the door shuts with a click and Chanyeol has Kris up against the wall, kissing him.  
  
It doesn't even occur to Kris not to kiss back. In an instant he's cupping Chanyeol's face, his hand big enough to palm Chanyeol's jugular the same time his fingers press into the soft crook behind his jaw. His other hand is threaded in the soft hair of Chanyeol's nape, and Kris wonders what it feels like, if his hands are as hot as Chanyeol's are, now pushing up his shirt, branding their way over his waist and across his ribs. There's only that and the smooth slick heat of Chanyeol's mouth, his tongue, until Chanyeol angles his body and pushes his thigh between Kris's legs. Then there's nothing but the cold-hot shiver of lightning low in his gut.  
  
Kris's room is the closest, so that's where they end up, where Kris lays Chanyeol out across the mattress. He teases more than he means to, preoccupied with sucking kisses down Chanyeol's torso while Chanyeol tries to get Kris's hand on his dick, swearing until Kris does him one better and holds each leg, spreads them apart to take Chanyeol in his mouth. He strokes his thumbs down the softest inner part of Chanyeol's thighs, feeling the bare skin quiver under his palms and fingertips, all of it, until Chanyeol tenses like a whip and gasps.  
  
Then Chanyeol is sitting up and demanding his turn to play.  
  
  
  
  
4.2.  
  
The next morning is almost trivial.  
  
Kris wakes up exhausted, with the worst hangover he's ever had. He opens his eyes to Chanyeol's bright hair under his nose and immediately rolls around, covering his face in his hands. "Goddammit."  
  
Behind him, the bed creaks as Chanyeol stirs. "Fuck, my head."  
  
"Shut up," Kris says. "Everything needs to be silent." Chanyeol kicks him, and Kris admires him in a bitter way because that probably caused Chanyeol more pain than it did him. He takes a few soothing breaths and cracks his eyes open. His EXO poster stares back at him. Kris remembers he has a fansign in an hour, and promptly wants to die.   
  
"Fuck me," Chanyeol groans to himself. He's curled up against the wall with the blankets over his head. Kris controls himself for a full ten seconds before he caves.  
  
"Pretty sure I already did."  
  
"Suck my dick—oh wait, you did that too," Chanyeol mocks. He licks his mouth, and the weight of his stare is somehow incongruent with the light quirk of his lips. Kris is reminded of exactly how dry his throat is. He waits for Chanyeol to say something more but he doesn't. There's a stretch of silence and Kris tries not to let it turn into discomfort.   
  
"You shower first," he says. "I'm in too much pain."  
  
"Why don't we," Chanyeol wiggles his eyebrows, albeit a little weakly, " _conserve water?_ "  
  
"Why don't I kill you," Kris snaps.    
  
"I'm pretty sure I'm going to kill myself." Chanyeol clambers over him, wincing with every step. "Please make coffee, please. Be a hyung."  
  
Kris makes a noncommittal sound, but three minutes after the shower starts, he drags himself upright and makes his way to the kitchen while trying to move his body as little as possible. At least the coffee is its own payoff.  
  
Chanyeol joins him half a cup later with a towel around his neck. Kris is feeling well enough to move his face, so he smiles. Chanyeol looks taken aback but then his face lights up, and Kris feels a little more of the headache subside. It's a little weird looking at Chanyeol and knowing what his dick tastes like, but Kris is grateful it's not really awkward. It makes sense that it wouldn't be, he tells himself.  
  
Chanyeol rests his hip against the counter and reaches across Kris for his coffee. His arm and chest press up along the side of Kris's body and a dull involuntary spark jumps in Kris's stomach, the old familiar body heat of his best friend newly intimate even through two layers of fabric. He waits for Chanyeol to pull away but Chanyeol barely budges, just withdraws his arm to bring his cup to his lips. His throat moves when he drinks, and Kris resolutely tells himself he's not counting the seconds that trickle by.  
  
After a moment, Chanyeol touches Kris's wrist with his free hand. "Hey," he asks, clear as a bell. "Do you want to grab lunch later? When we're recovered enough for the outside world, I mean."  
  
Kris hesitates and glances at the clock. "I can't," he confesses. Chanyeol's fingers are a warm lazy curl. His thumb rubs over Kris's wrist bone, just once, and startlingly tender. Kris has the sudden urge to shed the sweet way Chanyeol is looking at him, eyelashes long and dark, to shake him off at a few paces, but he holds himself in place. "I have a fansign in an hour, it's lucky I woke up in time." He bites his lip a little, but says, casually, "Another day?"  
  
Chanyeol is still for one soft breath, so close his exhale feels like a kiss on Kris's neck. Then he pulls away and settles in a lazy stretch, comfortably bracing his back against the counter to lean his weight on both elbows. He lets go of Kris's wrist so easily Kris almost doesn't notice. "Another day," he says agreeably, and drains his cup.  
  
  
  
  
(5.  
  
Lu Han hooks an arm around Jongin's neck and pulls him in close, pressing their cheeks together. Jongin's muffled "Hyung, what—" is almost lost in the noise of the room, but Lu Han shushes him anyway.  
  
"Let's take a selca," he says to Jongin, already angling his phone.  
  
"Are you going to post this on your minihompy?" Jongin isn't cooperating at all, frowning and trying to turn his head enough to look at Lu Han. Lu Han widens his own eyes and smiles sweetly at the camera lens, and takes a picture just like that.  
  
"No, I'm sending it to Kris to get him to come to this party," Lu Han taps away at his phone. "You know Kris-hyung?"  
  
"Yixing-hyung's fan?" Kyungsoo interrupts, eyes lighting up with interest. "Say Yixing is here."  
  
"Oh," Jongin says. "Yeah, I know him—wait, retake that picture. Hyung!"  
  
Lu Han tucks his phone away and laughs. "Kris is supposed to be _your_ fan, Jonginnie."  
  
"He's not my fan," Jongin says, only a little bit sulky. "He likes Yixing-hyung."  
  
"His pictures are nice," Sehun says, and then adds shyly, "He always looks cool when he comes to see us."  
  
_they think ur cool_ , Lu Han texts Kris later. _so misguided_  
  
_you're an ass_ , Kris texts back. _stop making fun of me_  
  
"It's so sad," Lu Han says, staring at his phone. "It's like star-crossed lovers. Half the idols I know have crushes on Kris, but he's too much of a dumbass to believe me."  
  
"If it's meant to be, it will be," Yixing says peacefully, lying on his stomach and scrolling through the new photos on XINGXING.)


End file.
